Unstable
by JaycenMackenzie
Summary: Happy 70th Hunger Games! May the odds be ever in your favor. Annie Cresta, District 4 tribute, doesn't want to kill anyone. Finnick Odair, mentor and previous victor, wants Annie to win. He loves her, but he is afraid that she won't make it if she can't bear to kill someone for the sake of winning. Will he be able to help her survive?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The entire Hunger Games idea belongs to Suzanne Collins, and I am just borrowing her characters and ideas for my non-profit story.**

I wake up to the usual smell of the sea. I am so accustomed to the smell, that I barely notice the slight smell of fish underneath the fresh smell of the sea salt. The sun has barely risen, so the light is gentle on my eyes. The sound of the waves on the shore almost lulls me back to sleep.

I consider sleeping in, but when I remember what day it is, I find myself unable fall asleep.

Today was the day of the reaping.

A knock on my door startles me. My mother's head appears through the crack of the door. She is carrying a tray of food and a glass of juice.

"Good morning, Annie," she says, coming into my room. "I brought you breakfast."

She sets the tray down on my bed. I sit up, and take a sip of the orange juice. It's fresh and sweet. On my plate is bread: fish-shaped loaf, tinted green by seaweed. I take a bite, savoring the salty flavor. My mother sits beside me on the edge of my bed. She begins combing my long hair with her fingers. It feels nice.

"How are you feeling?" she asks. I don't need to ask her what she's talking about.

I shrug. "Fine. I've trained for this, remember?"

"Yes, but I figured that you never really enjoyed the training."

I don't answer, but continue to eat. I think about the hours that my friends and I had spent in that musty gym or by the sea, ever since we were little. I remember our little feet running across the sand, holding a blunt sword aloft. The days where it was extremely hot, we would swim in the shallow parts of the water, racing each other. I'm an exceptionally strong swimmer, even compared to my friends.

Those times were long gone, ever since we turned twelve years old. The chances of us being chosen for the Hunger Games increased every year. In the Games, District 4 is always part of the Career Tributes. For other districts, we were feared in the Games. Only our districts had trained since we were young.

I knew that a lot of my friends were desperate to be a tribute in the Games. One of them volunteered a couple years ago. She didn't make it back home.

Five years ago, my friend's brother was a chosen for the Games. He was only fourteen at the time, and he surprised everyone by winning.

His name is Finnick Odair.

Truth be told, he is very good-looking. With golden skin and those beautiful green eyes, who could resist him? All the girls fawn over him, vying for his heart. As pathetic as it sounds, they are almost throwing themselves at his feet.

I know a girl who had pretended to drown, hoping that he'd try and rescue her. It hadn't worked out for her because a huge wave had engulfed her, almost sweeping her away. Thankfully, she had been a strong swimmer.

I, on the other hand, never openly stated my feelings for him. I like him, although he came off as a real flirt. Before he won the Games, he seemed to have sweet-talked half of the girls in our neighborhood, leading them to believe that he liked them. His brother knew that Finnick never really had feelings for any of them, but was 'just having some fun'. He usually just acted like he would around the guys whenever he was around me and my close friends. Maybe he thought that we weren't worth his time.

After the Games though, he was barely at home anymore. He was always at the Capitol. His family had no idea what he was doing, as he never told them. Only once in a while did he visit us, but I had noticed that he looked a bit different. The familiar spark in his bright eyes was dulled.

I take my last bite of bread, finish up my juice, and then I place my cup back on the tray. My mother smoothes my hair one last time, and picks up the tray and leaves my room. It was oddly comforting, just having someone else's presence in my room. Now that she left, I am alone again.

* * *

It's a nice day out. The bright sun and warm weather are mocking me. There are seagulls flying around, squawking merrily, oblivious to what is to come. I seem to be the only reluctant person there. Everyone else is laughing and smiling, eager to have their name drawn. Even the younger kids who don't have their names in yet, are running around.

I'm wearing my nicest dress. It is turquoise and flows down to my knees. There are thin straps to hold the dress up. My shoes are simple sandals which were my mother's when she was younger. I usually don't wear clothes like this because I like to move around. My closet is mostly full of shorts and thin t-shirts.

My mother's hand on my back is the only thing keeping me from running back to my home. My father is on my other side. This was one of the only days of the year did he get a break from his job of fishing. Every day, he went out to sea on a small boat to wait for the fish to come to them. I learned about our industry at school, and I even got to go to work with him a few times. I found out that I was especially good at knot- tying after the captain of the crew asked me to tie the boats up.

We arrive at the town square where the Capitol had set up their stage. Peacekeepers are lined up around the roped in area where we potential tributes would be standing. The rectangle- shaped area is already full.

I hug my parents, pecking them on the cheek as well.

"You'll be fine," my mother murmurs.

She smiles at me, and I smile back at her. My father is smiling encouragingly too.

After signing in, I am herded into an area roped off and marked for seventeen-year-olds. There are at least a hundred of us in this small area. I try to find my friends in the sea of people, but find myself at a disadvantage because I'm much shorter than most of the people here. I stand on my tippy toes, trying to see over heads when I finally spot my friends.

Just as I'm about to make my way over to them, the mayor steps up on stage and taps the microphone. The noise is loud, and we all swivel our heads towards him. The voices quell instantly.

Mayor Walden, who is a short, plump man, steps up to the podium. He begins to read. It's the exact same story every year. He tells of the history of Panem and the brutal war for what little sustenance remained. The result was Panem, a shining Capitol ringed by thirteen districts. Then came the Dark Days, the uprising of the districts against the Capitol. The Treaty of Treason gave us the new laws to guarantee peace, and it gave us the Hunger Games.

"It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks," the mayor finishes.

He then reads the list of past District 4 victors. We've had at least fifteen so far. When Finnick's name is said, the victor himself stands up from his seat. I hadn't noticed him sitting there quietly behind a few of the other victors. I hear a few girls near me sigh and I roll my eyes.

The mayor's eyes flicker to a camera from which they are televising this reaping. He knows that the sighs would be heard all over the nation. Quickly, he pulls the attention back to the reaping by introducing the Capitol representative, Dreya Amulet.

Her high heels clack loudly on the stage. "Happy Hunger Games!" she says brightly. "And may the odds be ever in your favor!"

Her thick Capitol accent makes me grin. They are so much different than us. Her green hair and light blue skin is proof of that. She smiles widely and crosses to the glass ball that contains the girl's names.

"Ladies first!" she says.

My palms are sweating. I know that my name is only in there seven times, and out of thousands of slips, it's nothing, but I'm still nervous. I am prepared for if I'm chosen. But I'm not sure if I would win. I was strong, but I know that I wouldn't be able to kill someone if I had to.

Dreya's hand finally closes around a piece of paper. Unfolding the slip, she clears her throat.

"Annie Cresta."

It doesn't register in my mind at first. Not until someone, a girl from my neighborhood, nudges me, do I realize what she said. I am hoping that my expression is neutral, because on the inside, I'm screaming. I keep my head up, concentrating on placing one foot in front of the other. When I finally get up on stage, Dreya begins to clap, and the rest of District 4 follows suit.

I smile at the crowd, trying to find a familiar face. I spot my friends waving back at me, although their smiles look a little forced. My mother is at the side of the square, not clapping, but looking at me with pity in her eyes.

Dreya rummages through the boys' glass ball. She fishes out a slip and calls out, "Grayson Valley."

A tall, muscular boy comes out of the sixteen-year-old area. He brushes his dark hair out of his eyes and swaggers up to the stage. His cockiness is evident as he smiles widely, his white teeth shining in the sun. I almost have the urge to cover my eyes.

The mayor begins to read the long, dull Treaty of Treason as he is required to do every year. I don't listen, having heard it several times prior to this year. I risk a glance over to Finnick. To my surprise, he is already looking at me. He doesn't say anything, nor does his expression give my any idea what he is thinking.

Grayson is looking bored, and every once in a while, he winks at the crowd and a few girls squeal. He occasionally tosses his hair to the side and smiles at me. I smile weakly in return, not wanting him to take any interest in me.

The mayor finishes the Treaty of Treason and motions for Grayson and me to shake hands. Mine are still sweaty and Grayson grimaces ever so slightly. He barely looks me in the eye and he lets go quickly, surreptitiously wiping his hand on his shorts.

We turn back to face the crowd as the anthem of Panem plays.

**A/N: Please read and review! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: The entire Hunger Games idea belongs to Suzanne Collins, and I am just borrowing her characters and ideas for my non-profit story.**

I shiver as Peacekeepers march us through the front doors of the town hall. It is cold. A blast of cool air washes over us. My dress was enough for the hot weather outside, but not for in here. I rub my arms which now are covered in gooseflesh.

Walking down the main hall, I am conducted to a room and left alone. The room is warmer than the hall. The furniture is minimal with only two plush couches and a low coffee table. A glass of ice water is on the table, condensation dripping down the side. There is only one small window with a view to the sea. I wonder if anyone had tried to escape in the past. Curious, I slowly poke my finger through the open window. Not surprisingly, I receive a small electric shock that hurt enough for me to shout out.

"Ow!" I shake my stinging finger and manage to hit my toe on a chair. I grimace, grabbing my throbbing toe and collapsing onto the chair.

I hear a creak of the wooden floor. Looking up, I see that it is my mother and father. I get up and wrap my arms around both of them. I feel tears fall down my cheeks and my sobs are muffled by my father's chest. For a few minutes, we stand there with our arms around each other.

Wiping my tears from my eyes, I look up to my parents' faces. My mother's eyes are red, and my father's face is emotionless. I wait for one of them to say something- anything.

Finally, my father clears his throat. "Try to win," he says, putting a hand on my shoulder. "You know you can do it. Remember everything that you've learned since you were younger. Win for District 4, Ann. Win for me and your mother." He squeezes my shoulder lightly, and then lets it go.

My mother takes a deep breath and wraps her thin arms around me again. She whispers my name over and over again, stroking my hair. I tear up again, only focusing on her murmurs.

"Mommy," I say and she stops. I haven't called her that since I was nine. "I'll be fine, mommy." I'm mostly saying this for her sake, because inside, I know that I don't have a chance at winning. I remember watching the previous Games, to see that it is almost always the biggest person who becomes Victor.

"I know, sweetie," my mother says kissing me on the forehead. "I love you, Annie."

"I love you too."

Then a Peacekeeper is at the door, signaling our time is up. I hug them tightly once more. The Peacekeeper is ordering them out and the door closes with a click. I don't cry anymore, having dried my tears out for the past fifteen minutes. Instead, I sit back down, numbly staring at the wallpaper.

Someone else enters the room and I barely turn my head to see who it is. I'm not surprised to see three of my friends. These three are the ones whom I've been friends with ever since we could walk. Bree, Maia and Svetlana are crowded in front of me. They're still wearing their nicest dresses and their hairs are still tidy. Maia is the first one to wrap me in a tight hug.

"Annie, Annie, Annie," she murmurs. "Always getting into trouble, huh?"

I smile slightly and turn to face her. She's not weepy, but her brown eyes are pained. Bree is sniffling quietly, and Svetlana is like Maia. I take each of them into my arms. Svetlana's muscular arms squeeze me so tightly that it hurts. But I don't protest.

Too soon, the Peacekeeper is back and they are ordered to leave. Bree's tears are now flowing freely and she throws her arms around me once more. Her sun-lightened hair is covering my face. The Peacekeeper orders her out more firmly and she reluctantly leaves.

My last visitor is unexpected. Calico Odair is standing at the doorway. He slowly makes his way to me. I haven't talked to him for over a month. He was never as close of a friend as Bree, Svetlana or Maia, but we had our times. He sits next to me on the couch. He takes my hand and places a small object in it.

"You have to wear this, okay?" It is a small seashell strung on a cord. I forgot about a district token. I put it around my neck, the shell resting on my chest.

"Thank you," I say.

Calico shifts slightly closer to me. "It's from my brother, actually. He's not allowed in here, so he asked me to give it to you."

Finnick. Why would Finnick give me a token? The last I had talked to him was a couple years after he had won the Games. It had been three years since I had seen him. I was barely friends with him even before he became Victor.

Calico and I sat side by side, shoulders touching, until he has to leave. He bids me goodbye, gives me a kiss on the cheek and quickly walks out the door, his face slightly red.

The short ride from the Town Hall to the train station is quiet. We are in a shiny black car. I've rarely ridden in a car because we've never had the need to go far. Grayson is looking out the tinted windows looking bored.

The station is swarming with reporters with their cameras trained onto our faces. We have to stand for a few minutes in the doorway of the train while the cameras flash in our faces. Then, we're allowed inside and the doors close behind us. The train begins to move at once.

250 miles per hour is the speed that the train is going at. I glance out the window and see the scenery flash by. Only glimpses of trees and the sky are able to be seen. Anything else is whizzed by too fast to see. We're informed that we'll be making several stops to pick up the tributes from the other districts. District 1, 2 and 3 are already in their parts of the train.

The train is even grander than the Town Hall. We each have our own chambers that have a bedroom, a dressing area, and a private bathroom. There are even drawers filled with fine clothes.

I take a shower, letting the warm water run down my back. It feels good. I dress in a blue tank top and shorts. My hair is still wet, but I don't bother to dry it.

I lay down on my bed in the bedroom. It is softer than the one I have at home. The sheets are made of silk, which I knew because my mother's wedding dress was made of the same material. Her dress was one of the most expensive things that we had in our house.

I suddenly remember the seashell necklace that I had around my neck. I hadn't taken it off for my shower, and now the leather cord was still wet. I studied the shell. It was ivory-colored with a hint of a pinkish tint. Seashells were common in District 4, as we lived right by the sea. But this shell was the prettiest that I'd seen. There was a certain shine about it that wouldn't let me take my eyes off of it.

I recognize it as a necklace that Finnick had worn during his Games. I'd seen him wear it before the Games as well. I remember seeing the shell shining in the sun when we'd gone swimming with our friends. The memories of the times with my friends make me tear up again.

When Dreya comes and collects me for supper, I wipe my tears away and hide the seashell under my shirt.

**Please R&R!**


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